Visits to room 423
by thefrostedrose
Summary: Pre Heist Society: The Bennett and Bishop families have always been intertwined. /"I know, I'm such a rebel." "The definition of one!"/ Amelia/Bobby, some Kat/Nick, mentioned Bobby/Nadia. Friendship/Romance/Humor/Drama.


Night had fallen in Warwickshire, in the West Midlands area of England. While many parts of the county were still bustling, many of the lone, country roads were empty, shrouded by the nightly fog. A woman with shoulder length dark hair, in a red coat was seemingly the only one driving that night. It was rainy, and damp. She stopped at a stop light, lightly tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She was surprised to see one other car in the intersection across from her, a sleek Mercedes-Benz SUV. She half wondered if the person, or people, in the car across from her were wondering why they don't just drive through the red light, since no one else was coming.

Finally, the light turned red, and both cars started across the intersection. Just as they were about to pass each other, the woman in the first car noticed that something was off. A light on her right had formed, and was approaching way too fast. It seemed like hours until the massive, eight wheeler truck came into view, but in reality, it was a half a second.

It came flying out of no where, running through the red light, and into the Mercedes, sending it flying. The woman watched as the truck, in slow motion, kept coming, right towards her, slamming into her car. It felt like she was toppling head over heels in the air as the car flipped. As it finally crashed to the ground, the woman could feel her head pounding, the blood pouring out of her body. Glass covered the ground under the car. She was able to finally open her eyes a crack, to see the truck erupt in flames. Then, Nadia Bishop sunk into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Bobby Bishop stood in the ER of South Warwickshire Hospital feeling nauseous. His four year old daughter, Kat, was asleep in a chair. He had been standing there for five hours, waiting for his wife to come out of emergency surgery. He hadn't learned the details yet, but apparently there had been a car crash involving a truck earlier that night. It took fifteen minutes for emergency vehicles to reach the scene, since the accident occurred on an empty road in the middle of the English countryside.<p>

Again, his stomach did a flip into his throat. As soon as he heard, he grabbed Kat, and headed for the hospital. She was tired, and didn't know what was going on. She fell asleep shortly after they got there. Bobby knew he probably looked like crap; he had been there for hours, but he didn't care. He just wanted to see his wife.

He kept wondering how this could have happened. She was just scouting out a museum for a heist. They were making notes of guards, and security cameras. And after they stole something, they would move out of Warwickshire and onto somewhere else.

Finally, a doctor emerged out of the OR, flipping through his charts, walking towards Bobby Bishop. He was half listening as the doctor told him the truck driver died on impact, and it seemed his brakes gave out, causing the crash. The two people in the Mercedes were in stable condition, and one was going into surgery in an hour.

"What about Nadia?" He finally asked. The doctor took a deep breath.

"She's in critical condition. Her injuries were very severe, and we did the best we could. We just have to see how she reacts to the medication. She's being moved from post-op to the ICU in a view minutes, if you want to see her." The doctor replied. Bobby felt frozen. _Critical condition_. The doctor gave him directions to the ICU, and left.

Bobby stood frozen in the ER, the doctors, patients, and nurses bustling around him for what seemed like forever, until he the tears finally fell down his face.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Bobby Bishop was sitting in a chair next to his wife's bed in the ICU. Her relatives had come, and Kat was staying in a hotel with Gabrielle and her mom. Bobby reached out, and patted his wife's had. The last two days, she had gone though even more surgeries, and now was in a coma. Even though her face was covered with scratches and bruises, and IVs protruded her arms, he couldn't help thinking she was just as gorgeous as the first day he laid eyes on her. She was still in critical condition, but she was stable now.<p>

He got up from his chair, and after kissing his wife gently on the cheek, walked into the hallway of the ICU, and glanced around. From the amount of time he spent there, all the nurses knew his name. He recognized doctors' faces, and some of the relatives of other patients. As he started down the hallway, he found himself stopping at the front desk.

"Hi, Jenny." He said to the nurse at the counter. Her smile broadened.

"Hello, Bobby. How are you?" It was no secret that all the nurses were already in love with Bobby Bishop.

"I've been better." He smiled sadly. "I was wondering about the people in the Mercedes. The other car in the accident." He felt a lump forming in his throat. "I heard the truck driver died, but the doctor didn't say much about the others." Jenny looked down through her records, happy to help the handsome Bobby Bishop.

"Oh. One of them was discharged on the day of the accident, uninjured. The other is in room 423, on the floor below this one, if you'd like to visit them."

"Thanks, Jenny." He flashed a smile at her, and she blushed. Bobby had decided that if he was going to be visiting his wife in the hospital 24/7, he should at least have the courtesy to get to know the others in the accident. He took the elevator down, and the floor was different from the ICU. It had a slightly happier aura. He finally found room 423, and looked in.

The room was empty of visitors. The only occupant was a young woman sitting in the hospital bed, typing furiously on a laptop, and glancing once in awhile at the massive book in her lap. Bandages were wrapped around her head, but her long, dark hair flowed down past her shoulders. Her left foot was encased in a massive, white cast, and was elevated. He noted the bruises and gashes covering her arms.

"You checking me out?" He looked at the young woman, who had looked up from her laptop, a small smirk forming on her pretty face. Bobby felt himself blush a little.

"I'm married." He said with a grin.

"You're not allowed to check out girls once you're married?" The woman asked, raising an amused eyebrow. Bobby laughed, the first genuine laugh he had had in days.

"I'm sorry for intruding. My name's Bobby Bishop. My wife was in the other car in the accident." The grin slipped off the other girl's face.

"Oh. I'm so sorry." She said.

"It's fine." He replied. "And you are…?"

"Amelia Bennett." She grinned.

"Amelia." He repeated thoughtfully. "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all." She said as he sank into the chair next to her bed. "I could use the company, actually. Keep me from going insane from boredom."

"Has anyone come to visit you?"

"Some friends of mine." Amelia answered, nodding to the flowers next to her bed. "But they have there own lives to get back to. And the TV in here doesn't have cable, and I really don't want to watch another program on Andrew Lloyd Webber."

"So, how are you?" Bobby asked, looking at her foot.

"Shatter foot and ankle, cracked ribs, mild head injury." She drawled. "Better them him, anyway." She murmured, nodding at a man in the body cast being wheeled by. Bobby smiled. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Well, my wife has dropped into a coma." He sighed. "And she's been having a lot of visitors. I'm here 24/7 anyway, and her room doesn't have cable, either." Amelia grinned. "I also wanted to get to know the others in the accident. We're all in this together, I suppose."

"Well, Bobby Bishop, you are welcome here any time."

* * *

><p>The next day, after visiting Nadia, Bobby went to go visit Amelia again. She was again typing away on her laptop.<p>

"Mind if I ask what you're working on?" He asked, as he sank into the chair next to her bed.

"My thesis." Amelia replied. Bobby gulped.

"You're in college?"

"I know. Shocker." She said sarcastically, then saw his expression. "I'm twenty-two."

"Oh." Bobby murmured. "I'm twenty-five." He offered.

"So, what do you do, Bobby Bishop?" She wondered, looking over at him.

"A bit of art dealing." He murmured, not going to admit he was a thief. Her eyes widened.

"I'm an art history major!"

"Really? Where do you go?"

"Oxford." She grinned.

"Impressive." He laughed.

"Where do you go?"

"Somewhere I believe they call the University of Life. I didn't get a very good degree there." Amelia smirked, and bit her lip. At that moment, Bobby realized how attractive this Amelia Bennett truly was, and wondered if he'd regret spending time with her. "Who was in the car with you?"

"Pardon?"

"The doctors said there was another person in the car at the time of the accident."

"Oh, Nick."

"Your boyfriend?" Bobby suggested.

"No, my son." She corrected. Bobby's eyes widened. "I know, I'm such a rebel."

"The definition of one!" He mocked, the smiled. "How old is he?"

"Four."

"And how is he?"

"Fine, I suppose. He's staying with his grandparents in Derbyshire. Escaped with barely a scratch on him, which is a miracle. I don't know what I would've done, otherwise." Amelia said softly. "It was open house at his day care, and we were going home when the accident happened."

"You were eighteen when you had him?" She nodded. "I have a four year old daughter. Kat."

"I bet she's lovely." Amelia grinned.

"I have a picture, if you want to see." Bobby said, taking out a small picture from his wallet. Amelia took in carefully, and smiled.

"She's gorgeous, Bobby." She handed him back the picture. "I would show you a picture of Nick, but they took my wallet when I went into the OR."

"She's staying with family in a hotel. My wife's family came to visit her, and the hospital is hardly the place for a four year old." Amelia nodded.

"I know. Anyway, I'm working on my thesis, on Impressionism. I've put if off until now, and it's due soon. But, considering how high I am on medication, and lack of sleep, it's probably a load of crap. And if it is, I'll fail out, and not graduate." Amelia sighed.

"And then what?"

"I could work as a waitress. Or in a strip club." She shrugged. Bobby bit back a laugh.

"Cabaret lounge, darling. It sounds much classier." Amelia laughed, her smile infectious.

"In reality, though, I'll guess I'll have to try again." Bobby checked his watch, and stood up to leave. Before he left, he smiled at her.

"By the way, I'm sure your thesis is wonderful."

* * *

><p>His visits with Amelia Bennett continued. The next day, he found himself in the room of Amelia Bennet once again. Instead of the laptop on her lap that he had become used to seeing there was a white notepad and pencil.<p>

"Finished your thesis?" He inquired.

"Absolutely not." She sighed. "I'm taking a break."

"What are you doing?"

"You'll laugh." She grinned.

"I swear, I won't." Amelia stared at him for awhile, and finally said.

"I'm drawing."

"The art major's an artist! What a surprise. What's next, a cop eating a doughnut?" Bobby smirked, and Amelia smacked him playfully with her art pad. "Are you any good?"

"No." She snorted.

"Can I see your work?"

"No!" She protested.

"Would you draw me?" He asked, and Amelia looked up at him, confused and excited.

"Only if you draw me." She offered. He nodded, and was given a piece of paper and pencil by Amelia. For the next hour, he tried to draw her to the best of his ability, but he was no artist. He instead watched the way she studied him so carefully, drawing and erasing almost musically. "Done." She finally announced. "You?"

"I've been done for awhile. Can I see it?" She reluctantly handed it over. He didn't say anything for awhile.

"You hate it, don't you? I _knew _it was horrible!" Amelia reached over, and tried to yank it out of his hand.

"No, no. It's…amazing." Bobby whispered, staring at it. It looked exactly like him. It was like a photograph. "You're really good, you know that?"

"Thanks." She whispered. "You can keep it, if you want."

"I'd love to." He replied. "Ready to see mine?" She nodded. "Now, be prepared." He showed her his picture, and he expected her to laugh, but she studied it like a museum curator. He had drawn a stick figure, much like a five year old would have, just to get a laugh out of her.

"Yours is so much better than mine." She announced.

"Really?"

"Oh, it's absolutely wonderful!" Amelia proclaimed, and Bobby was holding back laughter. She was obviously joking, but her seriousness was hilarious. "Very realistic. You may be the best artist I've ever laid my eyes one. Except my son, of course, who likes to draw me things."

"Keep it." He announced, handing it to her.

"I feel so blessed." She said dryly, grinning. He burst out laughing, and she laughed along with him. "How's your wife?" She finally asked. The smile slipped off his face.

"Still the same. I like coming here. It's the only happy part of my day." Amelia sighed.

"Tomorrow, my son's coming to visit. Maybe you could bring your daughter with you? I'm sure he'd like the company." Bobby grinned.

"I will."

* * *

><p>"Where are we going, Daddy?" Kat whined, stomping her Mary-Janes on the hospital floor, tugging on her father's hand. "Shouldn't we be with Mommy?"<p>

"We're going to visit a friend of Daddy's, okay?" Bobby said, leading his young daughter down the hallway to Amelia's room.

"Is Mommy gonna die?" Kat asked bluntly. Bobby sighed. He had been asking himself that a lot lately.

"No, Kat. She isn't." Bobby led his daughter to room 423, where the room looked like it had been taken over by a kid. Stick drawings were taped to the walls, blocks were scattered on the floor, along with picture books, crayons, and toy cars. A little boy sat on Amelia's lap. Bobby smiled. The boy did look a lot like her. The same dark hair and eyes. He was wearing loafers, khakis, a navy blazer, and red and navy striped tie. Amelia was reading a book to him.

"'_Catch! calls the Once-ler. He lets something fall. It's a Truffula Seed. It's the last one of all! You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds. And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs_'." Amelia looked up, and grinned at Bobby, who waved gently as she continued on. "'_Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care. Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air. Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack. Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back_'." Amelia shut the book, The Lorax by Dr. Seuss.

"Can we read it again?" Bobby smiled at the boy's British accent, which seemed so misplaced on someone so young.

"Maybe later." Amelia said. "Nick, this is Mr. Bishop, and his daughter, Kat. She's four, too."

"Hi." Nick waved.

"Kat, honey, this is Ms. Bennett, and her son, Nick." Kat grinned.

"Wanna play with your blocks?" She asked, and he smiled, hopping off the hospital bed to join her.

"She's so cute!" Amelia grinned, as Bobby sat in his usual chair next to her.

"I like his suit." Bobby laughed. Amelia rolled her eyes.

"His grandparents brought him to a polo club. Bringing him up as a 'proper member of today's society'."

"Very fancy." He commented, with a grin.

"They're Lord and Lady Bennett of Derbyshire." Amelia said, mustering up the snootiest voice she could.

"Wealthy?"

"Unimaginably." Amelia sighed. "Still, I'm on my own. They're not helping out with Nick or anything. Not that I'd want them to."

"Really?" Bobby commented.

"Being knocked up at eighteen did _wonders_ for the family's 'reputation in society'." Amelia laughed. "So, if I bomb my thesis, and end up working in a cabaret lounge," She flashed a grin. "They'll probably full on disown me." There was a long silence, as they watched Kat and Nick leave the blocks and start coloring in a coloring book.

"I'm guessing they aren't really involved with Nick?" Bobby guessed.

"No. Once they found out I was pregnant, they cut off everything. I had to pay for hospital bills, car insurance, rent on my apartment, college tuition, and food, on top of everything for Nick. It was a real wake up call." Amelia said slowly. "And I wouldn't have had it any other way."

"So Nick lives with you?"

"Yep. He goes to day care, and I have a babysitter for him when I have night classes." Amelia sighed. "I get along just fine with everyone at university, though. No one thinks I'm a slut, I don't think."

"I don't think you're a slut." Bobby offered, and Amelia smiled.

"Thanks. It's hard finding dates, though. When guys find out that I have a son, they run for the hills."

"You'll find someone, someday." Bobby said. Amelia nodded, and watched the two four year olds play with toy cars for awhile.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>The next day, Bobby made another visit to the hospital room of Amelia Bennett. Her son was gone, and the toys, too, but the pictures that her son drew her remained on the walls. On her lap was one thing Bobby didn't expect: a guitar.<p>

"With parents that are the Lord and Lady of Derbyshire, I thought you would play classical piano." Bobby smiled, and sank into his usual seat.

"I do, actually." Amelia laughed. "I picked up the guitar at sixteen, when my rebellion from high society began. Do you play?"

"No. I wish I did, though. Will you play something for me?"

"You want me to?" Amelia wondered, smiling.

"Absolutely. You can't just sit there with a guitar and not play something."

"I going to have to sing along to remember, so be warned." She smiled, plucking a few strings thoughtfully until deciding on a song. Bobby recognized the melody immediately. "_Here comes the sun, Here comes the sun, and I say it's alright_" He smiled at her. "_Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter, Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here, Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's all right_"

"I didn't know you were a Beatles fan." Bobby grinned when she finished.

"Of course. It was another step in my rebellion: Stop listening to the Tchaikovsky my parents made me listen to, and listen to good music for a change."

"You are a very good singer." Bobby commented.

"Thank you. Three years in the Youth Choir of Derbyshire must have paid off." She shrugged.

"Now, what does an Art History major, who's a phenomenal musician and artist, do with oneself after they graduate?" Bobby wondered. Amelia grinned shyly.

"Honestly, I have no idea."

"You must have a dream." Bobby shrugged. She thought a moment.

"Interpol." She announced, and Bobby gulped. "I'd like to work for Interpol. But that's just a dream."

"I think you should go for it." He smiled.

"Really? You think so?" She asked, shocked.

"Absolutely." He nodded. Amelia grinned.

"You know what, I will."

"That's the spirit!" Bobby laughed.

"Just out of curiosity," Amelia began. "How long have you been living in England? You can't be from here, with that American accent of yours."

"A few months." He answered. "But I'm moving soon."

"Oh." Amelia frowned. "To where?"

"Back to America." He shrugged. Really, to wherever the next heist takes him.

"Hm." She murmured, and was silent for awhile, before saying, "I will apply for Interpol, I think."

"You'll get in. And you'll be a fabulous addition to the company." Bobby grinned, and she smiled back, before playing her guitar quietly again.

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly, all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…_"

* * *

><p>The next day, Bobby Bishop once again made his way to Amelia Bennett's room, where she sat, once again, typing away on her laptop.<p>

"How's the foot?" He nodded at her cast as he sat in his usual chair.

"Same as always." She grinned. "Got the bandages off my head, though." Bobby then noticed the lack of the white bandages wrapped around her head.

"That's good." Bobby coughed. "Do you mind if I ask you something? I've been wondering about it for awhile."

"Go ahead." She murmured, half absorbed in her laptop.

"Where's Nick's father?" He watched her stop typing, her hands hovering over the keyboard, but her eyes were focused on the screen. "I'm sorry; was that too personal?"

"No, it's fine." She finally said, looking at him, and resting her hands in her lap. "Nick's dad isn't around."

"I sort of gathered that." Bobby said, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

"I had just started at Oxford. A Freshman." She began. "He was a junior, doing a semester abroad."

"And you two fell in love?" He asked.

"How'd you know?" She mocked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Lucky guess." He laughed.

"Anyway, I got pregnant, but he went back to America before I could tell him." Amelia continued. "Never seen or heard from him ever again."

"And you've told Nick that?" Bobby whispered.

"No. He's never asked. But sooner or later, he's going to start asking questions."

"And when he does, what will you tell him?" Amelia shrugged.

"Something good. He doesn't deserve to know his father as a college student who ran away and doesn't know that he exists. I'll tell him that he was a hero. Died for something good, and just. Every boy should be able to look up to their father as a hero, right?"

"Someday, he's going to stop believing that story." Bobby sighed.

"I know." She whispered. "And I'll tell him the truth when he's ready."

"You're a wonderful mom, Amelia Bennett." He grinned. Amelia smiled sadly back.

"I try to be."

* * *

><p>The day after, Bobby walked into the hospital room of Amelia Bennett once again. The laptop was absent from her lap, and she was grinning up at him.<p>

"Someone's happy about something." He smiled.

"I finished my thesis." Amelia smirked. "After days of cramming, it's finally finished."

"Good for you!" Bobby laughed.

"And, I've determined that it is not as crappy as I thought. Apparently, I work pretty well under pain medication." She said matter-of-factly. "Granted, it's not as good as it could be if I wasn't in the hospital, but…I don't think it'll land me in a cabaret lounge." Bobby walked up to her and gave her a high five.

"Congratulations, Amelia." He grinned.

"And, there's more good news." She smiled.

"What?"

"I'm getting out of here tomorrow!"

"Then who am I going to talk to all day?" Bobby sighed mockingly.

"I'm sure there are tons of girls around here that think you're hitting on them." Amelia laughed. "Also, it seems like every nurse in the building comes here after you leave to ask me about you. So there's always them."

"None of them will be as interesting as you." He admitted. There was a long silence.

"It was really nice to meet you, Bobby." She said finally. "I probably would've died of boredom in here if I hadn't. You were good company."

"You were, too." Bobby smiled sadly.

"I'm leaving early tomorrow morning, so this is probably the last time I'll see you. Ever." She shrugged. "Maybe we'll meet again one day."

"I hope so." He said. "I've got to go. It was very nice meeting you, Amelia Bennett." He stood up to leave, and was about to walk out, when she stopped him.

"Goodbye, Bobby. And I hope your wife gets better. From what you've told me about her, I bet she's a remarkable woman."

"She is." He answered slowly. "And I hope she gets better, too."

That night, Nadia Bishop died.

* * *

><p>Admittedly, the last person Bobby Bishop expected to see at his wife's funeral was Amelia Bennett. That's why he was so surprised when she hobbled up to him on her crutches three days after his wife died, at the funeral. The day was rainy, and mostly everyone had left. Amelia looked amazing; a form fitting black skirt suit, and a black hat that looked like it belonged at a royal wedding. The only thing slightly imperfect about her appearance was the massive cast around her left foot.<p>

"I tried to wrap my cast in black duct tape, but it didn't work out so well." She whispered sadly, adjusting her crutches under her arms. He smiled slightly. "Bobby, I am _so _sorry." He felt the tears well up in his eyes for a split second.

"Thank you for coming. How'd you hear?"

"Obituary in the newspaper." She shrugged. "How's Kat?"

"I don't think she really understands what's happened yet." She rested her hand on his arm."

"How are _you_?" She asked, her dark eyes boring into his.

"Honestly," His whispered. "I don't know." To his surprise, she reached out and hugged him tightly. He noted that she smelled like roses, something, from that day on, he would forever associate with Amelia Bennet.

"I should get going." She said softly, still holding onto him tightly, partly because she would fall flat on her ass if she didn't, because of the cast, and partly because she didn't want to let go.

"It was nice to see you again. I am heading back to America tomorrow." He replied, and, once again, to his surprise, she brushed her lips softly against his cheek. Her touch sent tingles down his spine. He knew the gesture was purely out of friendship, but he couldn't help thinking it was wrong of them to be doing this so shortly after his wife's death.

Before she walked away, she said, "I hope I get to see you again someday."

The next time Amelia Bennett and Bobby Bishop would cross path would be when she was assigned to investigate him as part of Interpol. Even though they were enemies now, thieves and detectives, some part of them were happy to see the other again.


End file.
